


"wyd ;)"

by Trifoilum, TunaaBabee



Series: Texting Robert [1]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Drama, Fluff, M/M, NSFW, Sexting, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 21:26:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trifoilum/pseuds/Trifoilum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TunaaBabee/pseuds/TunaaBabee
Summary: The first photo you recieved from Robert was, predictably, a dick pic.





	"wyd ;)"

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to Trifolium @ Discord for the fic, they just needed somewhere to post it! Credit also to the Exposeph Discord. <3
> 
> (tri's fics are really good okay i nut)

The first photo you received from Robert was predictably a dick pic. It was blurry and the details were scarce but you know it was HUGE and THICK and ….. _motherfucker_ , he inked his cock. Then came the messages.

_'bored'_  
_‘;)’_  
_‘wyd?’_

At first it was just that and you’re considering between responding or throwing holy water on your phone before he added.

_'..u ok with this?’_  
_‘sorry if you're not'_  
_'but I'm bored'._

It was too late to prevent the trauma, but still courteous of him. Honestly, setting boundaries between you and Robert was hard. Yes, your bodies wanted each other (maybe you more than him), but a creeping suspicion whispered that it wouldn’t do either of you any good. Robert Small was a rough, tumultuous ocean, and drowning in this ocean was scary. You replied to him, more contrite than you’d like it to be.

 **'uh, I'm..neutral? But Amanda has a homework and I’m going to help her. Maybe we can meet in the bar tomorrow?'**  
_'cool’_

And then another dick pic was sent. This time it’s clear, and you could see all of its glory in your smart phone.

 _'lol have fun with this then ;)'_  
_'tomorrow'_  
_‘you and I’_  
_‘prepare urself’_

Now that you've dodged the bullet, you took the time to appreciate the picture. His cock was HUGE and THICK and brown and veiny and yes, inked. It was thicker at the base, curved upwards, and his cockhead was bell-shaped. The random, black curved lines wrapping around his shaft might be considered tribal but it didn’t matter, it looked so good and so him. It stood alone in a thick bush of dark pubic hair and it just begged to be touched. And savored. You wondered if it smelled like Robert; like whiskey and cigarette and stale sweat and something that's all his. You kind of daydreamed about sucking it dry; tasting the godly nectars hidden there, letting his cum enter your belly. His cock would violently thrust inside you as your head thrashed around and you would enjoy every second of it, you would taste all of Robert’s cock like the delicacy you were sure it was going to be. Your pants grew tight and you shivered in fear (and secretly, thrill), as a thought flashed; _will it fit any part of you?_ Put your phone to sleep and wash your face. Amanda needed your help with this homework. Not crossing your own boundaries was hard. You seemed to underestimate how hard it would be.

 

************

The second picture was sent after you –almost- spent the night in his house. Surprise, it was a full body nude. You were enjoying your evening with Amanda, joking like you always did and gently inquiring about her day when your text notification went off. It’s a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad timing. Amanda almost saw the message and the phone was quickly dropped and picked and quickly put away.

Your duties as a father forbade you to appreciate it now, but a few moments later you still quickly excused yourself.

_‘have a good day’  
‘have some of this ;)’_

**‘JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ROBERT AMANDA IS WITH ME’**

_‘oh’_  
_‘fuck’_  
_‘well no fuck it’_  
_‘she’s gonna be an adult’_  
_‘what’s wrong with seeing a meat stick or two’_

**‘FUCK NO’**

You groaned inside the bathroom from frustration and embarrassment both. No more, not now. The phone was put far away but it’s too late, your subconscious already registered the entire view. Robert’s naked, muscular body was a terrible, persistent distraction the entire night.

Robert Small has a huge tattooed dick and he is hairy. **FUCK.**

The relief when Amanda finally entered her room brought a bit of guilt, but finally there’s space to check your phone. Robert seemed to continue messaging you after that.

 ****_‘hey’_  
_‘hey’_  
_‘hey’_  
_‘fuck hey you alright’_  
_‘is she angry’_  
_‘are you angry’_  
_‘hey’_

There was a twang of—something. Guilt?

****‘No one is angry, I’m just putting my phone away.’  
‘Are you out?’** **

You understood him well enough to not wait for his reply. Meanwhile, you scrolled up and opened that picture again.

This was an escalation of the utmost degree because oh. My. Lord. You’re not blind and you’re not dumb; Robert had a really good body for a man his age (or even a man –half- his age), but. But.

Robert stood in the middle of the frame, all cocksure in his muscular glory. He’s truly the embodiment of rugged good looks: with his wide shoulders and narrow torso, the muscular biceps that looked so strong, the tattoos on his left hand, his brown skin, and tight, sculpted abs, and those hairs fairly covering his body…. Shit. It was different from say, Craig, but you know that body resisted the decay from alcohol by routine, vigorous activity. Who could be stupid enough to refuse this? With the full picture, you got full comprehension of just how much of a full package he was.

Can’t touch this.

You doo-doo-doo-ed the opening melody of MC Hammer’s song. It slightly helped mitigating the waves of lust, but his face created another wave. It was Robert all right. Rough stubbles, messy hair that hid more than a few white streaks, and a smile that looked jaded. Reddened face and heavy eye bags showing how fucked up his sleep cycle was. And bloodshot eyes that looked haunted, bitter, and at the same time so intense. That face said he would have what he wanted from you, and you knew you’d give it to him if he actually knew what it was he truly wanted. You sighed.

Can’t touch this. Doo-doo-doo-doo. Doo-doo. Doo-doo. Can’t touch this.

Your imagination cannot be stopped, though, and arousing scenes swallowed your mind. You imagined him, roughly shoving you to the wall. You imagined wrapping your arms around his shoulder while both of his hands lifted your body. His heavy breathing on your ears as he pounded you with his glorious cock. His rough, chapped lips as you claimed his mouth with yours. His gravelly voice groaning together with you. The fullness as his seed filled you. You imagined your hands exploring his hairy chest while his calloused hands left their marks on your body. You imagined nuzzling into his shoulder as you were spent; tired and sore yet fulfilled. You imagined his body, big and warm and secure as you hold him in the dawn of morning. You imagined you and him and Amanda being happy together, the way Alex made you and Amanda happy—

\--the waves, it threatened to swallow you whole.

You threw your phone on the side. An endless thirst could threaten what you had now. You decided to sleep all the feelings away and for a precious few hours, it almost succeeded until the notification from your phone broke the stillness.

Your heart paused when Robert’s window appeared, showing another picture. It was a picture of…..blurry lines of lavender and grey and black and whuh..? It’s incomprehensible but at least this seemed like an inside shot. Maybe that meant he’s stumbling home. That was the only message but the fact that Robert took the time to reply was touching. You quickly sent a quick reply before your body demanded to sleep again.

**‘Good night :)’**

As you drifted, you wondered whether you should give thanks to all the creatures he hunted, wherever they were. Ultimately you did, because you’re certain without them Robert would probably stay inside his house until he died from all the waste and all the troubles haunting him, if not alcohol poisoning. Either way, that’s a waste of a good man; you thought.

You began to drown.

 

 

************

One picture showed another blurry picture, this time of a pair of hands. You recognized the glasses of wine first before the soft, dainty hands.

 **‘..Mary?’  
** **‘say hi to her’**  
**‘sorry I cannot come today.’**

Robert replied later in midnight.

 _‘mary says hi’_  
_‘I say hi’_  
_‘that means I’m mary’_  
_‘fuck’_

You did not know what prompted him to say this, nor did you know what you would do with that information, so you decided to defuse it with the best way available.

 **‘Hi Mary, I’m Dad.’**  
_‘fuck’  
‘FUCK’_

It wasn’t clear what those two fucks were for, and neither did he say anything the next time you met him. So you let it be like the Good Dad you are.

 

************

Not so long after he gave you his pocket knife, Robert sent a picture of a nicely arranged set of knives, laid neatly on his unusually clean table. It was a diverse set of knives; an ancient bronze knife placed beside a modern looking kukri, a medieval silver knife gleaming as it reflected the light from a small tactical knife. A pair of sai that reminded you of Elektra, placed on the middle with a curved Middle-Eastern knife that looked handmade. And a couple of other knives that all seemed to serve one purpose in the hands of the hunter. They all looked pretty cool; but if there’s any similarity it’s that they looked well-used and very much taken care of. You wondered if he would ever tell you more about them.

 _'I have huge knives'_  
_'I have a huge dick'_  
_‘ugh’_  
_'I have a huge dickknife’_

You're confused. That’s…a meme, right? Amanda had played that strange video once, you thought. WHERE AND HOW DID HE MANAGE TO WATCH THIS. WHAT’S A DICK KNIFE. _PLEASE DON’T STAB ME WITH YOUR DICK-KNIFE_.

Your reply was decisively more subdued.

 **'I...can see that. Those are a lot of knives'**  
_‘think of me when you use my knife'  
'think of my dick-knife'_

You cannot help but smiled a little.

 **':P I will. Thank you. Will you tell me more about your knives? They look cool'**  
_'you’re welcome'_  
_‘you need to have some of your own’_  
_‘for your own protection’_

 

************

After that Robert began sending you random GIFs. At first he sent one or two per day, but it slowly increased until you received a few GIFs every day.

It’s nonsensical and sometimes it’s a wonder where and how did he get all these but he did and he didn’t seem to care whether you understood or not. The lack of response or a confused one did not seem deter him, and he seemed to respect it the way you learned not to wait for him to reply any of your messages. But some of it –was- funny.

It was ridiculously silly, to communicate like stupid youths. But the warmth threatening to burst through did feel like what you used to feel for Alex when you were young. How wonderful that something like these was still possible— that Alex didn’t take it away.

By this point you found it hard to stop the Attack of the Killer Feelings. You’re not David Miller. You’re swept by the waves and hey, maybe drowning wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it was for this very special man; the man who hunted cryptids yet stayed until the end of a movie, who drank whiskey like it was water yet would never hit a child, who sometimes just looked so vulnerable at times you would gladly do whatever it took to help him feel better, be better. You’re sure you’re not even halfway in exploring Robert Small, and it was exhilarating.

Yes, it made everything much harder to resist your own desire while slowly approaching him, but you remembered a wounded animal. You did not want your own curiosity and lust to end up driving him away or worse, hurting him. That would be the gravest risk; more than not having him now; more than –never- having him.

No, you couldn’t bear the idea of being the devil that broke him.  
And so, you strengthened your resolve. You began trying to find your own GIFs for replies.

 

************

When you finally returned from Robert’s home, your mind is hazy.

Thank goodness Amanda was still sleeping. You couldn’t meet her; not while your lips could still taste whiskey and cigarettes. Not while the roughness of his stubble lingered on your skin. If you breathed deeply, your mind could still remember the scent of him; the lightness of soap, with the sharpness of cologne; tied together around the sweetness that was his and his only. It all was a reminder of how warm someone’s body felt on top of you after all these times, and your body craved more.

And to be able to connect to someone again; how wonderful, how nerve-wracking. How you wanted to hold Robert forever while he’s this vulnerable; If only your embrace was enough to keep him safe until all his guilt and regret and tears were forever gone. If only it was enough to make all the pain inside him dissipate into nothingness. But that’s not how pain went away, was it? It was the same with you, and Amanda was there to love you with all her heart.

Robert pushed almost everyone away.

A shiver slowly creeped on you. Slumping against the plush sofa, head buried in palms, you let a sigh that nestled inside ever since Robert’s tears made its way to your clothing and heart. They brought gratitude for everyone in your life and everyone who had left and you desperately wished you can share yours with him.

Your phone went off and you immediately checked it. A message from Robert.  
_‘thank you.’_

You looked at the screen for a few moments before typing a reply.  
**‘No, thank –you-. For opening up to me. I hope you’ll never stop.’**

Without realizing it, you’re smiling, and your eyes were glistening.  
You’re drowning, and it was the best feeling you had for a while.

 

************

The texting and the GIFs temporarily stopped after that fateful night in his house. You should respect that, right?

It’s not like Robert distanced himself; no, if anything, your closeness to Robert increased and he visited more often. There weren’t alcohol when he’s with you, and he also began bringing Betsy together, which…. What a strange pair, that small cute wonderful dog to that big, powerful man. But it’s also very Robert, you now realized. Besides, Val said that he talked about you often, and…and… Val looked for you.

Surely that’s a good thing, right?

But you missed the texts, the nonsensical conversations that nevertheless entertained you lots; and now that Amanda had gone to college, your home felt really, really empty. All the time and attention and love you had previously enjoyed with Amanda were now an empty space and you’re just.

You missed Robert Small.

So a random GIF was sent. Nothing too suggestive or rude; but enough to open some conversation, if necessary. If he wanted to.

For a while there was silence and you sought distraction from lots of other things until it was the middle of the night (as usual) when you received a reply. Surprisingly, it was a selfie of him laying on his bed. More surprisingly, he looked sober. But the thing that stopped your heart was the fact that Robert Small was beaming. There were wrinkles on his eyes that were only now visible and his smile looked pure and overflowing with so much bliss and contentment. He looked several years younger just by doing that and your heart swelled into a size you never thought were possible.

 _'you made me look like this'_  
_'i hate you'_  
_'jk'_  
_' <3'_  
_'come over'_  
_‘or I’ll go there’_

This is –your- fault? Really? You caused Robert Small, of all people, to use THAT emoji?  
Apparently it was one of the best decisions in your life after Alex and Amanda to drown.

You were lost in your feelings too long, apparently, because another picture was sent. It's a close-up of Betsy's face. It was angled as such so that she looked sad.

 _‘hey’_  
_‘hey’_  
_‘heeey’_  
_‘why do you leave me at read’_  
_'Betsy missed you.'_  
_'fuck'_  
_'I miss you'_  
_‘fuck’_

**‘….That’s a really good looking face. I like you smiling.’**

_‘I try’_

**‘I hope I can see more of it.’**

_‘fucking definitely’  
‘are you coming over or do I pick you up’_

**‘I’m coming over.’**

_‘I’m waiting’_

 

For now, the storm ceased to be.


End file.
